Bartimaeus: Natalormios
by Guywithfakename
Summary: CAUTION: Ptolemy's Gate spoilers. The war in America is going poorly. The goverment resorts to a djinn draft. Our favorite djinni gets involved. But, who is Natalormios? WHAT HAPPENS TO NATHANIEL IS REVEALED! Please R&R! Chapter 4 up!
1. Prologue

Bartimaeus: Natalormios

Guywithfakename

Note

Jonathan Stroud owns Bartimaeus and its merchandising, I have only written this for the heck of it. The only things I do not own are the original names and ideas. You'll know them when you see them. Trust me, you'll know. P.S, I OWN NOTHING!

Prologue, Crystal Palace London, 4 Years Earlier:

Nathaniel, also known as John Mandrake, stared onward at his impending doom. Nouda drew closer, his essence bursting out of Makepeace's body. His eyes started to water up. By defeating Nouda, he would become a hero. By defeating Nouda, he would be known as the one who helped stopped the demon revolt.

Fame always comes with a price.

In order to defeat Nouda, and save the humans, he needed Gladstone's staff. He and Bartimaeus had shared his body to give himself extra strength to deal with Nouda's followers. Among them Bartimaeus' arch-rival, Faquarl. They had succeeded in bringing them down, but had found that Nouda merely absorbed the energy from the staff, increasing his power.

They had no other choice; they had to go with a suicidal plan. Nathaniel and Bartimaeus would break the staff, thus releasing its full energies upon Nouda. The only thing in their power that was keeping the staff from bursting during their other encounters was Bartimaeus' added strength. Nathaniel had the plan; he would dismiss Bartimaeus from his enslavement, thus unleashing the full power of the staff. This power, when uncontrolled, has been known to level a city block, so imagine its strength when unleashed fully.

This was the reason Nathaniel's eyes were tearing up. He had little chance of survival, and when he would become a hero, he wouldn't be able to see it. He would never again see his venomous co-workers, his assistant, Ms. Piper, Rupert Devereaux the Prime Minister, or Kitty. Sweet, lovely Kitty. He had fallen in love with commoner girl not too long ago, but he wouldn't ever see her again. Never, ever again. He'd never be able to tell her how he felt about her. To see if she felt the same. Never.

With pangs of regret, he had a few brief parting words with Bartimaeus. He acted bold, to hide his internal pain, the pain that even the djinni sharing his body couldn't see. At least Bartimaeus would live to fight, or shape-shift, or insult, or whatever it was he did another day. Not so for Nathaniel.

So, as Nouda drew near, near enough so he could smell the stench of death on his breath, he spoke them. The words of dismissal. He then could do nothing, nothing but to let Bartimaeus leave, and let the energy of the staff engulf him, Nouda, and the Crystal Palace. Let the energy dissolve him into nothing, nothing but a memory.

His moments of dying were brief, but he knew them well. The searing sensation, the feeling of dying like this, wasn't painful at all. In fact he felt rather warm. White light surrounded him, and everything was dissolving all around him like alka-seltzer in water. Himself, Nouda, the Staff, and the Crystal Palace. All dissolving just the same. He glimpsed Nouda's flesh get eaten from his bones, revealing the demon's otherworldly skull. The dying creature attempted to swat at Nathaniel, but his arm crumbled before contact could be made. Then, the intense white took hold of Nathaniel's senses. This was it.


	2. Rebirth

Nathaniel

The boy eventually came to. As he slowly opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his surroundings. Nathaniel just remained speechless. He appeared to be in a swirl of light, a sea of colors, shapes, and various textures. All of these appeared to be continually bulging, shrinking, stretching, flashing, forming, and disappearing all around. It vaguely reminded him of an impressionist's painting he had seen in a museum long, long ago. A forgotten memory now.

He looked down. He was shocked to see that there was no visible ground at all. That he was floating. Floating around in an infinite swirl of color, racing lights and other oddities.

The boy noticed something very different about himself. He no longer had a defined shape. It was more of a sort of wispy hybrid of gel and smoke, the color of dirty dishwater. The boy noticed that as he took notice of his surroundings, he observed his new body form and re-form varied shapes depending on his thoughts.

Another queer feature about this new place was that memories could be reviewed, or so it seemed. Images of the distant and not so distant past seemed to appear before his very eyes. Among these were pyramids, temples, amphitheatres, skyscrapers, colossal bridges, large walls, and other marvels of engineering. There were past conversations with old masters, fellow spirits, and commoners begging for salvation and mercy, among other memories.

Soon, the new visitor grew bored with viewing old events. He then noticed that a group of around six or seven more orbs of essence was coming toward his general direction. He instinctively tried to leave them but could not avoid a confrontation. To his great surprise, the orbs didn't appear to be hostile.

_Hello there_, greeted one of the orbs.

_Um, hello_…the boy meekly replied back.

_I haven't seen you around before_, inquired another orb, _have you been locked up in an Indefinite Confinement for a bloody long while?_

_Oh no, that's not it at all_, replied the boy, _I'm just new here. Whatever "here" might be._

_You really are new, ain't you chap,_ said the first of the orbs, _this is the Other Place, home to all the spirits magicians use for their dirty deeds. How I'd like it if they just would leave us in peace._

_WHAT?!! _Spurted the boy,_ The Other Place?! I'm in the Other Place? _He then calmed himself, as he noticed his essence was shooting around like a mad pin-cushion.

_Oh, yeah,_ squawked out another orb, _Other Place. Oh, by the way, if it makes you feel better, I suppose you could try changing your form. It tends to make a newbie like yourself feel better until they get used to it here. Quite pleasant actually._

The boy took the advice of the squawky orb, and conjured himself into a much more recognized form. It wasn't easy, but after lots of concentration, he altered his appearance.

_Ummm, well I'd say okay there chap,_ Admitted another orb, _Kind of like a cross between an upright komodo dragon and something that fell into a blender._

_Well it is-_

_Hey now! _Scolded yet another orb that sounded oddly feminine, _Give the poor kid some credit. At least it's something, a lot better than what you did when you first came here, Bordiphilus._

_Touché_ replied the orb.

_Look, I- _the boy tried to speak again

_When I got here, I made myself a swan with silver wings, he turned into a sort of reptilian animal, HE turned into himself into a flame breathing bull, "Van Gogh" over there conjured himself into a burning green phoenix with six wings, while YOU turned into something that looked like it came right out of a cat's-_

Nathaniel, at least, that's what he remembered his name to be, hard to tell, couldn't stand another second of these spirits babbling on and on. He had questions, and he needed answers.

_FOR CRYING OUT LOUD_, bellowed the boy with a voice that shook matter, his essence shot off like rockets in all directions while still attached, swelling to a gargantuan size, _I CAN'T EVEN GET IN A CROSS-WORD WITH YOU SPIRITS BABBLING ON AND ON AND ON LIKE THAT!_

Silence among the other spirits. They were now fixated on the angry newcomer.

_Look,_ said the boy, he calmed down and was now trying to hold their interest long enough for him to ask some questions. _Before I continue, would you please tell me your names, and your class if you it isn't too much trouble? I would like it very much if I knew who I was talking to._

_Oh sure,_ replied the orb farthest to the right, _I'm Artancles. Call me "Art." I'm a high-level foliot. I was that, um phoenix, y'know? _

_My name is Geisabelle,_ said the one with the oddly feminine voice. _I'm a djinni, Succubus to be exact._

_Bordiphilus is my name, dear chap. Sorry about that crack about komodo dragons and blenders. I couldn't help myself. Afrit, my dear chap._

_You wish. You're only a djinni. Oh, same here...Clephinius, my name is Clephinius. Pleased to meet you_ greeted another orb.

_M' name is Flanniflax,_ chattered the orb with the squawky voice, _I'm a real afrit. I'm kinda on the scrawny side, which sorta explains why I'm with these guys. Not that they're not good friends, they're loads of fun, that's another reason. But the thing is-_

_Don't you mind me, _interruptedthe final orb_, I'm just a poor, defenseless little imp...YEAH RIGHT! Djinni, through and through. Oh! My name is Damascus._

_Tell us stranger, what's your name? _Inquired Geisabelle, the succubus.

_Well it's, uh..._the boy couldn't really remember right off the bat. _I think it's um, Nathaniel or something like that. I'm having a hard time remembering. _

_Yer new, right fellow?_ Asked Bordiphilus.

_Yeah, I am._

_Well, the thing is, _explained Bordiphilus,_ when someone new comes to live in the Other Place, their old memories, well. Imagine the mind as a pond. Small pond, only one boat at a time on it. _

_What's the boat have anything to do with it? Inquired the boy._

_I'll get to that. Your old conscious is a boat; it's filled with leaks that you've patched up over time. Should be okay in calm water like that, right? When you enter the Other Place, imagine a whitewater river, if you please. When you enter the Other Place, the boat starts to leak, and then sinks plum to the bottom. _

_Your boat, I mean, your mind sinks?_

_Memories of your old life. However, when one boat sinks, another comes to take its place on the water._

Nathaniel gulped.

_But like a pond, you can fish up the boat with enough effort, right? _He asked.

_Oh yeah sure, but it'll take a lot a doing. It's easier just to settle into your new boat than to waste time and effort to retrieve your old one._

_So, I'll forget my old name? Nathaniel inquired._

_Yeah, it's the only way magicians'll be able to summon yeh._

Nathaniel sighed. He wondered when he'd get his new name. As if changing from Nathaniel, to John Mandrake, now back to Nathaniel were hard enough, now he'd get ANOTHER new name.

_If only I could keep my name, I like it very much._

Then, a subtle, soothing voice appeared inside Nathaniel's head. Well, a lot more into his head than the voices of his new friends. It spoke only one word: Natalormios.

_Natalormios._

_What was that, Nathaniel?_ Asked Artancles.

_Yeah, we couldn't really hear you,_ spoke Flanniflax.

_Natalormios,_ said Nathaniel much, much more clearly.

_Well, what's "Natalormios" then?_ inquired Damascus, _Is that Gibberish, or Asiatic Chimpanzee?_

_Damascus, ssshh! _scolded Clephinius, _This might be a shot in the dark, _he continued,_ but tell us Nathaniel, did you hear that word from a voice that was in your, er, mind?_

Nathaniel made a revelation. _Yes! It was a voice in my head!_ He spoke it with such pride. His mood quickly changed from honored to worry.

_In my mind, is that…um…normal? _he meekly asked.

Normal ?! By Garbazancles the Great, of course that's normal! enthusiastically replied Bordiphilus, _That must have been the Mighty One! The Mighty One gives Spirits their names, since we can't have our old wretched human names._

_(But I so happened to like my name) mumbled Nathaniel, or Natalormios now. _

_Wait! Interrupted Artancles, We don't even know what class he his! We can't give him a proper celebration without his class unknown._

_I know, said Flanniflax, let's try the "Black-and-Blue Test"._

_Ummm, what's the "Black-and-Blue Test"? _Asked Nathaniel, not really to enthusiastic about the name.

_Oh, the "Black-and-Blue test" is something the gang and I thought up. See, it's quite simple, shoot me with a Detonation. Then, we measure the size of the bruise and figure out what you are. Don't worry, I'm tough. I can take it. C'mon!_

_Okay then. I don't want to hurt you. Uh, how do I, uh fire off a Detonation?_

_It's really simple, don't you worry your little head about that, there chap. Just think about it, it doesn't take much._

_Okay then. _Nathaniel remembered what his old servant Bartimaeus did one time. A colorful explosion that had the force of a hand grenade used on unlucky foes.

Suddenly, an exceptionally large explosion hit Flanniflax. It wasn't the kind of pain that looked like it hurt, more of along the lines of the kind that makes you say "ouch" out of pure surprise, not pain.

_Well I'll be a satyrs' mum, _yelled Bordiphilus,_ that's a good sized 'un, eh? _

_Yeah, I'd say he's a level four djinni. Not too shabby, _agreed Flanniflax.

_(Just like Bartimaeus),_ thought Nathaniel, or now Natalormios.

_C'mon everyone, let's celebrate!_ Hollered Art.

_Congratulations Natalormios, _said Geisabelle,_ you're one of us now._

Then, everyone in the group let out a happy "hoorah". Everyone except for one, that is.


	3. James Halben, Junior Minister

Hello again, it's me, Guywithfakename. I've put in a another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it

I would also like to make an announcement saying I will try to update every week, though I can make no promises.

Please read and review. Whether you rave for it or flame it, I don't care. Just tell everyone you know to read it! Please, I insist.

I would also like to thank anyone and everyone who was kind enough to read and/or review. It makes me feel all special!:D This fanfiction will be novel length, for those of you who like novel-length FFs. Whether you love this story or hate it, I'll continue writing and no one can stop me!

(P.S. Check out my other FF entitled "The Pottrix", it's located under my name, Harry Potter. R&R for that puppy as well!)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bartimaeus. There, now don't hurt me.

Nathaniel

Nathaniel was steadily growing accustomed to his new life in the Other Place. Some aspects did take some getting used to, such as the quirky denizens, and the fact that you would have to think about what you would want to look like on that day. Assuming that there were days in the Other Place, that is. But when he got used to it, he realized that this place was quite pleasant. There were no files to file, papers to read, ideas to be rejected, schedules to tweak, raises to give, or people to yell at.

Amid the chaos and disorder of the Other Place, amid the swirls and colors and lights, he felt most at peace. Nathaniel had never felt this relaxed and comfortable ever, even during his time as a magician. All during the time when the world was served to him on a silver platter, a time when the world was a stage and he was the director.

Another new aspect that he learned in the Other Place was having friends. Back when he was a magician, working for Parliament, he never had any "real friends". There were co-workers he had been on good terms with, but he had never invited anyone over for a casual dinner party or anything like that. But, no matter how foreign this concept was, it was rather pleasant.

Just as Bordiphilus as said, Nathaniel's memories slowly started to erode away. As he made new ones, he started to forget his old ones. He eventually forgot most of his memories altogether. Of course, there were the exceptions. Exceptions such as past triumphs, Bartimaeus, his favorite servant, his old human name, and the commoner Kitty were among the more significant memories. Though Nathaniel lost old memories he didn't mind. Most of them weren't that pleasant anyway.

Despite being changed into his new form, Nathaniel hadn't lost his love for learning. In fact, he interviewed his friends on all the spells they knew, since he knew he would be summoned sooner or later, and he wanted to impress.

That day would come sooner than expected. One time, when he was talking to his friends, something rather seemingly unusual happened. A deep, echoing voice spoken in a strange dialect was just heard.

_Sounds like another summoning,_ Artancles unenthusiastically announced, _I wonder who's the poor sap that they'll be pulling this time._

_Well, I hope it's not one of us. Those magicians can hole us up for quite some time, and I don't wish to see any of you go. _Natalormios truthfully said.

_Ah, thanks._ Damascus said.

The voice continued to speak in the bizarre language, Coptic to be exact. It wasn't unusual; they had all heard summonings on more than one occasion at times. What was unusual, however, was the name it spoke at the

end. Natalormios.

_Wait a minute, that's your name, isn't it?_ Inquired Geisabelle.

_Yeah, how did those no good, dirty magicians get a hold of it so quickly? _Flanniflax commented.

_I seriously have no clue. _Nathaniel shuddered. It felt as though a thousand hooks were pulling him in all directions. In fact, he really had no idea. How did the magicians come to find his name so quickly? It didn't make sense.

_Well,_ Clephinius worriedly reminded, _no matter how they found your name, I think you'd better go. It seems like a rather high level spell, sounds like that guy has done his homework. Better not risk tearing your essence. We don't want you to die so soon._

_Real assuring, Clef. _sputtered Nathaniel. The strain was wearing, and he felt like he was going to be torn in two. He had to give in, or risk throwing away his life again.

_Remember Nat,_ yelled Damascus, just as Nathaniel gave in to the spell, _magicians are sticklers for first impressions, enter in a stylish fashion, choose a wild, extravagant form, and bite the bullet!_

_Don't die now!_ Cheerily waved Bordiphilus. _Or at least go out with gusto._

_Thanks a lot guys, make me even more nervous than I already-_ but he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. He then disappeared, back to the world he barely knew.

x x X X X x x

As Nathaniel entered Earth, he pondered his choices. He decided to use a trick that his very first servant, Bartimaeus had used on him. Why not? It would satisfy his nostalgic cravings. As for his form, he thought hard and quickly about it.

Nathaniel had been told about the finer points of devouring living beings, such as foolish magicians. Despite the fact he was recently a magician, the very word made him salivate. This knowledge inspired his choice in form. It was a form that he had thought up himself, and he was very proud about the ingeniousness of it. He decided it was to be a magnificent griffin glowing with an intense white light. Not only was it rather presentable, but also had other "perks". If the magician got blinded, they might foolishly stumble out of the pentacle, thus becoming fair game to him.

The room's temperature was dropping dramatically. The candles had been put out as if some invisible person had snubbed them out. Ice was forming on all the surfaces, and a rather sinister feel was in the air. A pillar of smoke started to billow out from the center of the pentacle. Unknown shadows flowed inside the smoke, while voices came from all around, whispering about evil deeds. Nathaniel saw the magician that summoned him was staring intently, his eyes trying to bore into the smoke.

Suddenly the smoke shot away, and was replaced by a searing, bright white light. The ice that had formed on all the surfaces instantly shattered and melted, and the voices grew mute while the form of a majestic golden griffin could be seen within. Nathaniel (or Natalormios, as he would be referred to as) then tuned down the light. Nathaniel noticed that the magician was wearing sunglasses. Obviously he was prepared for a trick like this. Nathaniel and the magician both stared at each other, both poker-face. He took advantage of this awkwardness and decided to get a good look at his surroundings.

First off, the pentacle. He eyeballed it for any minute mistakes, and scanned for any mispronunciations. Adelbrand's Pentacle. Whoever drew it was intent on using and keeping him. It was nicely well done, as a matter of fact. No mistakes whatsoever. Oh well. Maybe next time.

Nathaniel then observed the magician. Best to know as much as you can about magicians. Even the slightest quirk about a magician could be used to exploit them or nerve them. There was an old adage used in the Other Place, "They make our lives bad, we make their lives even worse".

In truth, there wasn't really much to him to his new master. He seemed like he was fairly young. No older than twenty five. He had black, wavy hair, and there was an air of power that seemed to surround him, despite his youthful vigor. Pale faced, dressed in a formal pinstripe business suit, he seemed ready to deliver orders to any spirit that would come his way.

Nathaniel noticed something rather unusual. The room he was in. The room appeared to be some sort of office. It seemed rather familiar. But, he couldn't put his finger (or more likely, talon) on it.

The magician decided to break the ice. He dropped the poker face, he seemed rather nervous. Perhaps this was his first fourth level djinni summon or something.

"Are y-y-you the one known as, N-N-N-N…" Come on already, thought Nathaniel. "The one known as…Natalormios?"

"Yes, I am Natalormios. Are there any other Natalormios' I should know about?"

Then with a sudden out burst, his aura pulsated like a paint explosion. Nathaniel wasn't expecting that to happen.

"Oh yes, YES! YES! YES! I've done it! Wait'll the guys hear this! I'll show them, Nat's still here!"

The griffin was taken aback. He also figured out why this office seemed familiar. It was his old one.

"Now hold on! What the heck is going on here?! What happened?! How did you come to my name, and why are you in m- uh, this office? Talk!"

The magician settled down. "I'm sorry," he enthusiastically apologized, significantly calming down, "I'm just so glad to see that you're still living. You were my most faithful servant. I'm ecstatic!"

Now to weasel more information out of him, thought Nathaniel. "Okay SIR, what happened? Why are you acting up in this office, WHO are you?"

The man seemed genuinely shocked. "Did you lose your memory, Natalormios? I'm James Halben, your master."

"I have a master?" Nathaniel inquired. He looks like he couldn't even handle a shot of the Stipples, he's so weak looking.

"Yes. That battle must've been really strenuous if left me, and forgot all about it. They must've hit you hard."

"What, what happened?" the griffin asked, overcome by curiosity.

"It must have been really hard, to do that to a djinni such as yourself." "The man then realized that he had some explaining to do. "Oh, back to the point. It was just recently, about no less than a couple weeks ago. It was off in the countryside, about fifty miles from London. Our spy reported that the Americans would be sending a small strike force to try and assault the capital. 'They'll be sent Wednesday. Two AM. Nothing too strong, this will be a hit-and-run. Nothing you can't handle with proper demons. Oh, by the way, they'll be coming down the old Roman Road, from the west. The rocky pass would be an ideal ambush point.' Is what he said."

"We sent out a small platoon of djinn to deal with it. You were among them. To the Roman Road, Wednesday, two A.M. At the rocky pass. It shouldn't have gone wrong."

"But our spy had misled us. Instead of coming from the west, they came from the east. Right into the force. And it wasn't 'nothing too strong' as he said, they meant business. Survivors report seeing around three afrits, and three to four djinn. You can guess what happened next."

"Well," said Nathaniel, According to your information regarding this subject, it seems the spy either must have been misinformed, or got put up by the Americans." Put up by the Americans. I smell a conspiracy. This could get interesting. I'll need to play my cards right and see how this turns out, he thought quietly to himself.

"Our defense drove them back, but they suffered high casualties in the process. A foliot and a minor djinni were all that remained. Three djinni, four foliots, and an imp, all gone. Including you. Scorch marks and rubble where everywhere. I searched the area for miles and couldn't find you. I was devastated. They all said 'Oh James, just let go of Natalormios. Find yourself another servant. It'll be better.' Or 'James, I lost TWO djinn in that fight, but I'm not beating myself up about it.'

Wow, though Nathaniel. You could make a soap opera out of this trash.

"Though no matter how much I tried, I couldn't let go of you. I then made up my mind. If Natalormios isn't gone, then I'll simply summon him. And now you're here! Oh it's so wonderful to have you back!"

Upon hearing the man's story, Nathaniel made a couple deductions. One: This guy loved his spirit like a son and treated him like an equal. Not unlike Bartimaeus' Ptolemy.

Two: This guy is an emotional nutcase.

And three: Apparently the Mighty One sort of "Reinstates" spirit names when they perish, if it gets bored with coming up with entirely new ones. He had a "hand-me-down" name.

"Alright." Nathaniel continued. "May you please tell me what's with this office? My memory is still a little, ah, 'tipsy', y' know?"

"Oh, right." the man continued some more. "The office. I'm junior prime minister. The old position that that weird John Mandrake person had. Strange fellow."

If James had been paying a bit more attention to the griffin, he might have noticed it make a disgruntled huffing sound when he started talking about John Mandrake. In his mind, Nathaniel was jealous that this, overtly emotional man get put into office. These sort of people never make it in real politics. Too easy to be pushed around, thought Nathaniel the djinni.

Nathaniel decided to probe even more "So, you summoned me just for the benefit of the doubt that I am alive?"

"That's actually just part of it." James continued. He seemed sad as continued to talk. Sort of like when a parent tells their child that their dog or cat died. "This is simply a perk to what I have to do. Natalormios, the real reason I have summoned you is on government orders. Parliament has issued a 'Draft List'."

Nathaniel was simply shocked. "You mean the war is going that badly?!"

"Yes, really badly. Strict orders. Government has raided the history books and has rustled up a list of various notable spirits. Every magician has then been given a list of spirits that they must summon to aid in the war. I've been up all night summoning. I'm exhausted. It takes a lot out of a guy.

No wonder he looks like he couldn't even handle a shot of the Stipples, Nathaniel realized.

However, I decided to take advantage of all the summoning I'd be doing by attempting to summon you."

Well, Nathaniel thought, this guy is particularly weird. Great, my first master is a nutcase. However, my first job is in a war. If I survive, this may get my career off to a good start.

James continued. "It's not fair. As soon as I get you back, I have to send you off to get killed in America. Believe me. I've been there. It's a rough place, Natalormios. I feel sorry for you."

Nathaniel replied "Don't worry about it, I'll manage."

James forced out a smile. "I shouldn't worry. After all, you are one of my better spirits. Instead of sending you off into the hall where the others are going to be debriefed, I shall give you the privilege of waiting patiently outside the pentacle while I summon one last spirit."

James spoke some words, and made a few hand signs. He was initiating some protective clauses. Typical magician. Despite what this man was saying about how much he favored "Natalormios", he wouldn't take any chances. No magician in his right mind would ever trust a spirit like that.

So, bound by his master's will, "Natalormios" then left the pentacle, and watched patiently while his master performed the summoning ritual one more time.

There we go, another chappie under arm. Don't forget to R&R! Updates every week! Poor Nat had to go through Halben's sappy old monologue, but it's okay, the next chapter will have the return of our favorite trouble-making djinni. Who is he? I'll give you a hint, he's 5,000 years old, a witty wise-cracker, and has worked for people such as Ptolemy and Solomon. Still lost, just read the next chapter to find out who our mystery spirit is!


	4. The Address

Well, we're onto chapter 4 now. I would like to say I am having a Q&A, if you have any questions about the story, feel free to ask, and I will answer them unless the are SPOILERS. I would like to say thanks to anyone who has reviewed, you all rock! And to those who think this story's a load of dingoes' kidneys, well that's your opinion. I'll also have a "random quote of the chapter" at the beginning and end of each chapter from now on. Don't forget to R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy. Not one bit. Nuh-uh, nothing. Zilch. Nada. Nunca. Not even one of the books in my personal library. Sad isn't it?

"Where is my heart?"- Saix (Kingdom Hearts II)

Anywho, please read on.

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Bartimaeus

At long last, I was finally free from that kid. After years of suffering and essence wear, I was finally free of my master, Nathaniel, or as the magicians call him "John Mandrake" magicians have two names, their birth name, and their official name. Knowing a magician's birth name gives a distinct advantage to one, as the name may be used to counter a spell. Quite handy if a magician tries to use the Red-Hot Stipples or the Inverted Skin. The latter has some PARTICULARY interesting results. .

I'll admit, I had some pretty unusual encounters during my time as his "servant" (slave is more like it). It's true, I saw some interesting characters, (that foliot, Simpkin was a real creep. He actually liked being bound to magicians, not that I don't have a place in my heart for some) and I saw some interesting things particularly notable was the afrit Honorious, who was bound into ol' William Gladstone's bones, the return of golems, and the encounters with the higher level beings Ramuthra and Nouda . In fact, I would have to say it was one of my more entertaining and informative trips to Earth. I also got to stick it to Faquarl, Jabor, and many other rivals that I have made over time. It almost makes me want to go back to Earth. Almost. I never want to go back to Earth again; the Other Place is where I belong. Of course, I'll end up going back sooner or later, due to my celebrity status. Sometimes it's hard being famous.

Sure enough, I was to be summoned again. After a good long while recuperating in the Other Place, I felt the all-too-familiar tug. Each word pulled me even harder; there was no resisting this time. The spell was too strong, even for me. I had no choice; I'd risk tearing myself in two. I gave in…and left.

For this summon, I decided to take on a rather impressive looking guise this time if I do say so myself, one that was popular down in ancient Mexico. A winged, feathery serpent. This was the sort of form that said "I am powerful, I am strong, I am the best, I served the greats, and I mean business."

After putting on a chorus of drums in a cloud of smoke, I appeared before my new master. He was pale faced, crow-haired, kinda scrawny, and had hair that had so much oil in it that it could run an auto for a year. I bet he had never seen a bottle of shampoo in his life. They're not that hard to find. Just go to wherever hair products are sold and-

I better get back on topic before I bore you with my hair styling tips. The magician also wore an ugly black pinstripe suit. Who did he think he was, Al Capone? Just give him a cigar, and he looked like he might have a future on Alcatraz. Bags loomed heavily under his pale eyes, and he looked like he just might pass out.

I scanned his office. High position of power. Another airhead who could play people like a video game. I'm not new to these kinds of people, who have all sorts of power. Solomon, Ptolemy, Merlin, Montezuma, Augustus, Hiawatha, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Elvis Presley are a few of the names on my large list of masters. You couldn't even see the top of his desk, it was covered with so much paper. Apparently he didn't have a filing cabinet.

What I found most interesting wasn't the magician, or his office, or his desk, or even his hair problem. It was the spirit with him. It took on the form of a magnificent golden griffin. Nice touch, trying to be presentable like that. Keeps the magicians from thinking we're slobs or anything of the sort. I scanned the seven planes to see what this spirit was. It was a djinni on all seven. But something felt odd, tension was in the air. I work with other entities all the time, so it couldn't be the uncertainty of partnership. I was experiencing an odd feeling whenever I looked at it. Like we've met before.

I decided to start off things with a cheery "hello" It was a false cheery though. The only reason I'd be cheery with a magician would be either they were going to kick the bucket really soon, or I had just found a mistake in the pentacle. Let's not forget finding some rather SCANDALOUS information about the magician. . The magician feebly waved, and then started to speak.

"I charge both of you to escort me to Heddleham Hall so that we may be briefed on the war in America. Come, the meeting starts very soon."

My partner and I left with the man out of the room and into the hallway. For some reason, it felt really odd being next to him. Sort of like déjà vu. As we walked down the hallway, I decided to talk to him, find out a bit.

"So," I started "Nice form you've taken. All majestic like that."

"Thank you Bartimaeus. I really enjoy it myself as well."

Now that was plain creepy. How could he have known what my name was? Maybe he overheard that magician saying it, but I doubt that. When magicians summon in the presence of other spirits, it sounds like a whole mess of gibberish, despite our ability to speak infinite languages.

"Hey, how'd you know my name?" I was curious to see what this guy knew.

"Why shouldn't I know your name? You're famous."

This seemed like a load of bull to me. Despite my "celebrity status", it is very hard to identify one of us, even if one of us uses a signature form. He must have known something else to it.

"Have we met before?" I asked the djinni.

His answered was filled with great subtlety and layered with overshadowing.

"Oh, we have. Though when we did, we knew each other much, much more differently." He grinned, all his pointy sharp griffin teeth shining at me. I could tell he obviously liked toying with me, and that he wasn't going to answer straight away. Now it really felt like I knew the guy from somewhere. I decided to make the playing field level, to keep things fair.

"Well wise guy, if you happen to know MY noble name, then may I hear YOURS?"

"Certainly, it's Natalormios."

I replied with true honesty(which is unusual for me). "Natalormios. I like it. Sounds 'noble'.

"That's because it is."

Whatever. "Now about your knowing my name-"

I didn't get a chance to finish what I was going to say. This was due to the fact that a magician walked up to our master and started striking up a conversation.

"Hello James. You look really formal with those two noble"- He thought and looked at us. Trying to figure out what we were. "Djinn, am I correct?"

"Good eye Hibbids, you're correct. Oh by the way, thank you for the compliment."

Here came the good part. Mr. Hibbids, judging from his name, then accidentally stepped on Natalormios' paw when he stomped down for being pleased with himself Magicians, all the same. Full of pride to the bursting point . Natalormios' reaction had some particularly interesting results. With a loud roar, a flash of blinding light shot off like a bomb. Hibbids apparently got blinded, let out a surprising (yet delightful. To me of course) squeal, and started running off blindly while covering his eyes highly unadvisable . He then collided head on with a food cart that a person who appeared to be a chef of high rank Brings back memories of Faquarl. I'll still never be at ease whenever a gourmet chef is nearby. Nor will I ever fully trust anyone operating in a kitchen ever again without first scanning the seven planes. But I should relax, Faquarl's gone the way of Jabor was pushing. Food went flying, cart, magician and chef moving at dangerous speeds to a large picture window. Smash! The cart, its contents, and the magician went out the window, and plopped into a rather large and prickly rose bush a couple stories below.

"Hurry up, they're waiting for us." Our master called. He was already ahead of us. Typical, not wanting to be see at the scene of the crime. Letting it wallow in mystery like- I'm getting off topic, let's get back already.

We continued down the hallway to a set of ornate doors. We opened the doors and went inside of the hall. I wasn't new to Heddleham Hall, as I had had been here many times with my prior master, John Mandrake I was fortunate enough to know John's real name, Nathaniel. This put us at even odds, so I had a distinct advantage over him. And yet I still did what he told me to. Why oh why? . Heddleham Hall was even more crowded than usual. This was probably due to the fact that every magician in the hall had at least two to six spirits accompanying them. Despite all looking dog-eared and very worn-out, there was still much commotion; spirit and magician alike were talking amongst themselves. All had questions, and all wanted answers.

A few minutes later, a man who I assumed was the Prime Minister came into the hall. How did I make the assumption that this man was the Prime Minister? Was it because he had a sense of undeniable power that flitted with him as he went? Was it because people showed the greatest amount of respect towards him when confronted? Or was it the fact that he was guarded by the watchful eyes of three security imps, and flanked by an afrit that would tear your arms out of their sockets if you so much as looked at the Minister funny? The new Prime Minister's name, if I remember correctly, is Pierre Frelaeu. A Frenchmen who surprisingly, did not have a stiffy accent. What ever be the reasons, he went up to the stand and lifted an arm, calling for everyone's attention.

"Attention everyone, may I have your attention please?" he called out, in the sort of voice that grabs attention but isn't that loud volume wise.

He got it. It was as if someone muted the volume in that room. Everyone, spirit and man and the occasional woman alike gave the man their undying attention. Who could blame them? They all wanted to know what was going on with the mass summoning.

"Thank you. Now, I suppose you are all wondering why I have called on you to come to this hall on this day, hmmm?"

A few "yeas", "you betchas", "what-the-bloody-hell-is-going-ons" could be heard among the crowd. I had to agree with them on this one.

"I thought so. I shall do my best to ensure you are all in the light on this subject. As some of you might know, the war in America is getting much, much worse, and casualties are growing. Our numbers of troops are diminishing, so parliament with some slight approval from the Prime Minister more like me, myself, and I from what it seems have decided to pull a drastic, never before done action known as 'The Djinn Draft". Despite the name, this includes other spirits such as foliots, imps, afrits, a marid, and a select few demonic mites."

As soon as "large and in charge" And I mean that literally and figuratively mentioned a "Djinn Draft", a sudden wave of murmurs and mutterings gripped the crowd. Of course, we'd been **drafted!** It all made sense. Laughing boy continued on with his monologue.

"The draft works in four simple steps:

Our historians raid the history books of information, and compile a list of notable spirits who have been used throughout the ages for significant and some not so significant tasks, most notably in wars.

We assign a list of varying numbers of these spirits to our employees. Let it be noted that these spirits have varying power, and some of us may need to summon more than others.

The employees summon said spirits, using whatever it takes to summon, control and bind them to their will.

Finally the magicians give their spirits their orders."

"Therefore, now that I have been kind enough to tell you how this process works, you hereby must now follow your orders No need to tell us that. For if we didn't follow the orders given to us, we'd be punished horribly, and we'd risk destroying our very essence. . Your masters will be given slips of paper very shortly. On these slips, are the locations that you will be sent to. Go to these coordinates, and be ready to help out with the war and/ or war related activities. Your master also may or may not need to go with you. Be aware that you may not stay in that location long, as you will go where you're needed." The Minister paused to add a bit of an effect or something like that. "Well, I bid you all adieu. May the war be ended swiftly and decisively by this decision on our part."

With that, the Minister, imps, and afrit left.

With that, everyone then left the hall, chattering amongst themselves. I could hear some taking guesses at where the might be going. Orlando, Miami, Los Angeles, Boston, Portland, and Ontario Some dim foliot said that. I almost felt like going up to him and giving him a proper geography lesson for that. Ontario's in Canada, not America. For shame . Some were absolutely livid with fear. I could hear rumors of all kinds on the unlikely sort of defenses and offenses that America possessed. Some of the horrendous (yet laughable) ideas that came up were, scores of marids armed to the teeth with silver bladed weapons, Detonation Orbs that could level city blocks that could be activated with a simple phrase, an army of golems controlled by martial arts masters, a sinister device that could drive all matters of creature and spirit to the point of madness, a nexus designed to sear the flesh and essence of our troops at a touch, and (worse of all) easy to use online video websites that you can use to totally ruin your reputation at the drop of a hat.

Unlike most of the spirits and magicians, I wasn't the least bit worried. In fact, I was thrilled that I'd get to see America again. Sooner than I'd think, I'd get to see the wide open plains again, the beautiful endless forests, the crystal clear rivers, and the lovely, deep canyons. However, it would be a bittersweet reunion too much bitter, not enough sweet . Only downside would be that it would be more than likely that I'd be fighting It's not like I see much fighting. I love a good brawl every now and then, but I don't really like wars. Too much fighting on my part, in my opinion. . But still, America would be a good break from London in my opinion. A nice change of atmosphere. And that atmosphere is from dirty to clean.

"Well Bartimaeus, I don't know about you, but I look forward to going to America." Natalormios said to me. "I've heard about it, and I had always wanted to see it for myself."

"Well Nat," He was starting to warm up to me. "I look forward to it as well. America is one of my favorite places in the world. I hope you have the exact same opinion."

"I'm sure I will Bart. Shame we had to be in the brink of a war to go visit America. It's a shame."

In truth, I was thinking the exact same thing.

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Another chapter has been completed. Yay. Also, please be so kind as the R&R, you may even put me under your favorites. But, be sure to do it your way!

"So long and thanks for all the fish."- The Dolphins (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)


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